incurring any specific penalty by the code of nations. Such is the legal view of the case; but there is one more obviousand natural, which speaks to the feelings of every one. If the French nation, or a large portion of them, were so blindly devoted to Buonaparte as to place him at their head once more, was it to be supposed that he incurred a capital punishment in availing himself of their disposition in his favour? Napoleon had already held the government of France for many years, acknowledged by the sovereigns whom he had humbled, and who were now, in their turn, inflicting on him a lesson of humility. Was it wonderful that he should have endeavoured to resume an authority once so generally recog. nized in Europe and in France, still longed for by a large body of the ci tizens and the whole army? If, like Murat, he had undertaken an enter prize desperate and hopeless, and fallen at Cannes or at Grasse into the hands of the government he had at tempted to unsettle, there would have been some colour for treating him as a desperate disturber of the public peace. But the number of his fac tion, as it made his strength and his temptation, made also his apology, and the general error which received him as a sovereign and installed him in the Tuilleries, was, in a court of justice, a sufficient apology for his ac cepting their homage. It is only in oriental revolutions that unsuccessful ambition is punished with death, nor can we consider Buonaparte taking the advantage of a tempting opportunity to resume his authority, as en titling a rival who could not keep the field against him without foreign aid, to put him to death as the penalty of his failure. His former murders, his ty ranny, his unbounded ambition, were covered by the amnesty of Fontain

bleau, and the purple robe of the Emperor of Elba.

But if the King of France could not legally punish Buonaparte capitally, still less could Great Britain, in fair and honourable interpretation of his surrender to Captain Maitland, deliver him up to be so placed in danger of his life. It has been indeed adjudged, that where rebels surrender to their own government, the quarter granted to them only insures them from being put to the sword, and by no means against the consequence of subsequent judicial proceedings against them. But the case is different if the surrender is made to the military force of a power different from that which has been offended. In such cases, to deliver up prisoners of war to the vengeance of those who thirst for their blood, has been, in all times, accounted the act of a mean or perfidious government. It was clear that Buonaparte was entitled to claim something by his surrender to the British officer, and the least which could be assigned to him was personal sécurity; but the safety of life and limb, implied in every unconditional sur render, would have been strangely infringed had he been instantly transferred to the French government, to be by them put to death. In fact, no such thing was required at our hands, and the French government, far from desiring to have him delivered up to them, would have been very much embarrassed by such an offer. And however much those who keenly felt the injuries inflicted on Europe by the last usurpation of Buonaparte may have desired to see them expiated, we are certain they would rather that this capital offender had survived for ages, than that a single drop of his blood should sully the fair honour of their country.

Another and far more absurd opi

nion was entertained by some favour ers of Buonaparte in this country, who imagined that his arrival in Britain conferred upon him all the privileges of a British subject, afforded him the protection of her laws, entitled him to claim his Habeas Corpus, to fix his own residence, and to transfer to England the centre of those intrigues, by which he might in future be able to disturb the peace of the continent. The Morning Chronicle published a letter upon this subject from one Mr Capel Lofft, and stated besides, that " Mr Waddington was desirous of bringing the question before the Common Hall; and he sent a copy of his resolution previously to the Lord Mayor, who probably considered it to be drawn up in terms too strong and violent for public discussion." It is probable that Buonaparte reckoned upon the existence of some such wrong-headed persons in England, when he finally resolved to surrender himself to the captain of the Bellerophon. But foreigners, unused to the general and uninterrupted free dom allowed by our laws to the circu lation of opinions of every sort, are apt to consider the reveries of wild and speculative persons, which the daily papers give them an opportunity of intruding on the public, as sentiments seriously entertained by an efficient party having weight in the state. They are ignorant, that, in Britain, the restless and violent politicians who speculate and bluster in the public prints, have but little influence of any kind upon the practical maxims by which the state is managed. Indeed, the sentiments of the people of England, in general, though as subject to constant agitation as the magnetic needle, soon re-assume the polar direction of common sense and sound reason. The crowds who sailed round the Bellero phon, and cheered Buonaparte as he shewed himself on deck, would have

VOL. VIII. PART I.

done the same honour to the wildest lion in Africa; but would have been equally surprised at an attempt to give the devastating monster the benefit of the Habeas Corpus act. When, therefore, the said Mr Capel Lofft protested that "the intelligence that the great Napoleon will not be permitted to land, and is to be sent perhaps to St Helena, was almost overwhelming to him, though long accustomed to suffer much and to expect everything;" foreigners were struck mute with astonishment at such extremity of folly, or concluded it must be backed by a strong body of desperate fanatics, ready to bear Buonaparte on their shoul, ders into St James's or Windsor Castle. But Englishmen, who know well how easily the most absurd sentiments will find crack-brained individuals to support, promulgate, and advocate them, from the mere humour of singularity, only indulged in a hearty laugh at the sentimental distress, the sufferings, and the expectations of Mr Capel Lofft, and the meditated motion of Mr Waddington, which was too strong for the Lord Mayor's digestion. That Buonaparte was a prisoner of war was evident, from his surrender to a captain in the British navy, after his power had been destroyed in a dreadful battle betwixt his forces and those of Britain; and if there is a maxim of public law more clear than another, it is that which puts into the hands of the victorious combatants the power of disposing of the captive enemy who surrenders at discretion. It is a right constantly exercised during a period of hostility. Each nation shuts up its prisoners of war in places of confinement; or if any of them are allowed freedom upon their parole, they are deprived of it and placed under actual restraint the instant it is discovered that their tie of honour is not to be trusted, Buonaparte stood in this latter predica

Y

ment. Sad experience had shewn that the most favourable treaty could not bind him as a prince, and that he possessed both means and inclination to renew scenes of confusion in Europe. As a gentleman and a soldier, his word could be still less trusted, since Lefebvre and other officers, who had broken their parole in England, were received by him, not only with impunity, but with favour and preferment. It had been too much his object to disregard and even to deface those points of honourable feeling and sentiment by which the military character is at once dignified and softened, and to sacrifice, on all occasions, faith and honour to instant convenience and advantage. A just, though severe retribution, has rendered him the victim of his own want of faith and indifference to character.

After mature consideration, the ministers of Great Britain, who would have had on their heads all the blood which might afterwards have been shed on this man's account, had they omitted to secure his person when in their power, determined that his future residence should be on the island of St Helena, a place which seemed in a singular degree to combine the necessary quality of absolute security with facilities of exercise and domestic freedom, which could hardly have been united with it elsewhere. It was determined that he should be considered as a captive general, whom circumstances, arising out of his own character and conduct, prevented from being set at large on his parole, but to whom, nevertheless, the British nation was desirous, from a respect to misfortune, to soften captivity as far as it could receive alleviation.

The intention of the British government was communicated to Buo

naparte by Lord Keith. It would seem he had buoyed himself up with hopes of being permitted to reside

in some part of Britain, whence he might have watched and inflamed at pleasure such causes of irritation as should occur on the continent, or perhaps in Britain itself, and he was furious at the disappointment. He gave his indignation vent in a protest, which, we presume, contains the essence of his cause of displea

sure.

Aug. 4.

"I protest solemnly, in the face of heaven and of men, against the violation of my most sacred rights, by the forcible disposal of my person and of my liberty. I came freely on board the Bellerophon. I am not the prisoner, I am the guest of England. Once seated on board the Bellerophon, I was immediately entitled to the hospitality (Je fus sur le foyer) of the British people. If the government, by giving orders to the captain of the Bellerophon to receive me and my suite, intended merely to lay a snare for me, it has forfeited its honour, and sullied its flag. If this act be consummated, it will be in vain that the English will talk to Europe of their integrity, of their laws, of their liberty.

The British faith will be lost in the hospitality of the Bellerophon. I appeal, therefore, to history; it will say that an enemy who made war for 20 years on the people of England, came freely in his misfortune to seek an asylum under its laws. What more striking proof could he give of his esteem and of his confidence? But how did they answer it in England? They pretended to hold out an hospitable hand to this enemy, and when he surrendered himself to them in good faith, they sacrificed him.

"NAPOLEON."

In this morsel of bombastic expostulation, Napoleon assumes, as granted, the very question on which the decision of the justice of the proceed,

transferred to the Northumberland, which instantly set sail for St Helena. They arrived safely at August 16. their place of destination, where Buonaparte commenced his future line of life, under the inspection of Sir Hudson Lowe, who had been appointed governor of the island. He was lodged for the time in a villa, which, by a remarkable coincidence, had been for a fortnight the residence of the Duke of Wellington, while the vessel in which he went out to India was lying at St Helena. At the very time when Napoleon was tenant of this sequestered mansion, the Duke of Wellington was in possession of his favourite palace of the Elysee-Bourbon at Paris. The rules to which Buonaparte was subjected, with his mode of confinement in general, became the subject of a debate in parliament at a subsequent period, when they will fall most properly under our consideration.

In the conferences carried on at Paris, there was only one concession made to Great Britain in her national capacity, which was the ratification of her authority as protectress of the Seven Ionian Islands. By Nov. 5. a special treaty, to which

all the allied powers acceded, these islands were recognised as an independent state, to be governed by a constitution and charter, such as should be adopted with the consent of a lord high commissioner, nominated by Great Britain, the protecting power. Our government, according to recent travellers, had, during the short time it possessed influence in these islands since they were re-conquered, that is from the French, been very beneficial to the inhabitants. Their commerce had already increased, and their revenues, formerly misapplied and abused, had, during the British administration, been devoted to the proper national objects. In another

point of view, this arrangement was important, as Russia, already too powerful a neighbour for the Ottoman Porte, would otherwise have acquired a predominating influence in the lonian republic. And, upon the whole, there was sound national policy in the measure, as it gave Britain a strength and an interest with a people and country, whom late events have once more placed within the scope of European politics, and which, in the course of future events, may have considerable importance in the balance of European power.

Before proceeding to the history of the more remote British settlements during this eventful year, there is one domestic incident of an unpleasing but transitory nature, which claims brief notice from the annalist. The sailors in the ports of the bishoprick of Durham and Northumberland shewed a spirit of insubordination, and a desire to dictate to their employers, which attained an alarming height, although it was altogether unmixed with any political opinions, which so often gangrene and inflame the wounds occasioned by partial and professional discontents.

The paying off so many of the ships of war had occasioned a great influx of seamen at the northern ports, particularly at North and South Shields. The coasters and colliers which daily sailed were unable to give employment to so many hands. Cabals ensued; clubs and daily meetings, processions, with flags and music, and the whole ended in the appointment of a committee of insurgents, and the resolution of the refractory seamen to guard the passage of the Tyne, and suffer no ves sel to sail without a permit from the said committee, and being manned in such a manner as they were pleased to prescribe. The navigation of the Tyne was thus strangely interrupted for six or seven weeks, while the attempts of